Like, especially, who’s playing Friday and Saturday?

Well, you can’t find out from their ad in the Alibi this week because we (I) screwed up and lost the ad for Sister in the shuffle. But most notably at Sister, this week:

Friday, May 31, catch an ear-crunching, face-melting stoner-rock assault from Albuquerque’s super-heavy SuperGiant, teaming up with rockabilly favorite Cowboys and Indian. The show starts at 10 p.m. and tickets are $5.

It’s refreshing to have your stereotypical notions obliterated by other humans. That’s what happened to me when I interviewed Cowboys and Indian guitarist Gerome Fragua and upright bassist Matthew Ezzard. Expecting fashion-rockabilly cats, I was pleasantly surprised to spend some time gabbing with two intelligent, open-minded, funny and musically diverse dudes who care more about rehearsing than futzing around with Dapper Dan’s pomade.

In the article, Playing Cowboys and Indian, I noted that drummer Jeff Cooper couldn’t make the interview because he was on the road as a short-haul truck driver, but I neglected to explain the other members’ day jobs. Fragua serves as the music director for Paragon Church, a Southern Baptist church in Rio Rancho. The band has even played there. Ezzard is currently immersed in his final semester of fire science studies at CNM and hopes to become a structural firefighter.

Greased Up

It’s the child of country and Western and rhythm and blues, the hell-raising brother of rock and roll. Rockabilly roared into its own in the mid-’50s. Its rise was propelled by Sun Records owner Sam Phillips and his work with Elvis, which essentially repackaged a black sound for a white audience. Sixty years later, outfits here in Albuquerque keep that music alive—the acoustic slap bass, the electric guitar twang and the big, jumping beat.

The Alibi Group Hug's Rockabilly Blowout went down Saturday, July 2, at the Launchpad. Acts included Jakob Insane, The Hi-Lo Tones, Cowboys and Indian and The .357s. Pompadours and faux orchids decked the night, with patrons trickling in from the Hot Rod Hop—a burlesque show and movie screening at the KiMo and the vintage car show a few blocks east on Central. By the time Cowboys and Indian hit the stage, the place was packed wall-to-wall. The crowd was swingin’ to rockabilly rhythms into the wee hours. Click below for some rockin’ photos.

An interview with the big man himself

By Captain America

California-based Big Sandy & His Fly-Rite Boys are rock and roll with elements of rockabilly, boogie woogie, Western swing, traditional country and fine vocal arrangements. The Rockabilly Hall of Fame members are touring in support of their latest release, Turntable Matinee. They’ll make a long-awaited stop in New Mexico on Friday. The Alibi was able to catch up with Big Sandy via email.

Route 66 has always been synonymous with the culture of cars, and today, the Mother Road gets its vintage groove back with a hefty helping of Rat Fink, rockabilly and pinups during the Hot Rod Hop. Hit up a free classic car show on Central between Fourth and Fifth Streets from 3 to 6 p.m. Afterward, head to the KiMo Theatre (423 Central NW) for a screening of Robert Mitchum's 1958 carsploitation classic Thunder Road. After the 7 p.m. film, watch retro-style performances by Burque Burlesque featuring special guest Miss Orchid Mei from Colorado. Tickets are $10 for the film and performance. If you have anything left in the tank, the Alibi will host a Rockabilly Blowout at the Launchpad (618 Central SW) beginning at 8:30 p.m. featuring the music of The Hi Lo Tones, Cowboys and Indian, the .357's, Jakob Insane, and DJ Lucky. Tickets are $5 at holdmyticket.com.

The show is in conjunction with the Hot Rod Hop, held all afternoon tomorrow along Central. Plus Burque Burlesque performs at KiMo in the evening, and the mother of all carsploitation movies, Thunder Road on the Mother Road will hit the KiMo’s big screen.

Dance studio and diner combo comes out swinging

By Mina Yamashita

In 1927, Lindberg crossed the Atlantic and the world began dancing the Lindy. Energetic devotees swing on—and Rachel Green makes a career of the obsession. Green and I are chatting over lunch at the Route 66 Malt Shop, one door down from her dance space. I’m sipping a chocolate egg cream while Green enjoys a toasty crab cake sandwich.